Robert Vickers: His daughter_s keeper

Carole actually fell asleep while bent over the chair – and dreamed of Clive's mighty prick entering her cunt, giving her pleasure, making her come again and again and again.

Carole awoke to pain such as she'd never felt before in her life. Every muscle in her body hurt, but it was her cunt and asshole that were in the worst shape. Her cunt still throbbed from the pull of that damned vibrator. She had thought it would have stimulated her, made her feel more relaxed, better. It hadn't. It had hurt when Mr. Strong shoved it in and hurt even worse after he left it running inside her pussy.

As to her asshole, the merest thought of it sent knives of pain into her body. The way he had brutally butt fucked her made the pain all the worse. Gingerly exploring, she decided nothing had been ripped. She was still intact but aching like hell.

She rolled over on the bed, wondering who had put her in it. She was still dressed in the corset, garter belt and black stockings but the panties were gone. She guessed that Mr. Strong might have ripped them off he while he had been greeking her. She vaguely remembered a tearing sensation and thought it might have been the panties.

The way they had cut into her pussy mound made her instinctively reach down and stroke across the fleecy patch of coppery red, crinkly pubic hair. Her entire bush ached – it seemed even the very tips of the cunt hair hurt, too. She stroked across the mound and felt the hair flutter against her fingertips. This worked out some of the soreness she felt there from where the panties had cut so brutally into her.

Much to her surprise, her clit slowly rose as she pushed her pubic bone down hard. She gently stroked the little organ and was rewarded with a surge of pleasure. Sighing, she leaned back on the bed, trying to ignore the dog collar still around her neck, and began masturbating. She'd never done it like this before.

But she was learning new things from Mr. Strong and this was one of them. She didn't know why she couldn't get off when he fucked her, but that didn't bother her. Not as long as she could stroke along her own pea-size clit and give herself the pleasure that he denied her.

Carole closed her eyes and thought about Clive. The man had seemed to be like the others, harsh and callous and uncaring. He had shown her the only kindness since she'd been sold into this sex slavery by her father. Sucking him off in the car had seemed degrading at the time but now she longed to do it again. She wanted to thank him for all he had tried to do for her.

The girl stroke more vigorously on her clit, starting at the base and working to the very tip. A light flick of her finger across the tiny point sent icy jolts of joy into her tortured body. She stroked faster. The way her cunt spilled over its fuck fluids, helped her lubricate the tiny spire of sensitive flesh so she wouldn't chafe it.

"Ummm, oh, Clive darling," she moaned low and sincere. "I wish you were here so we could fuck, I mean really fuck!"

Thoughts of the man's strong body coming down on hers, his cock driving hard for her gaping, wanton cunt, thrilled her. She stroked harder on her clitoris until the savage desire mounted to the point of explosion in her body. No matter what Mr. Strong or Miss Olson did to her, they couldn't take this pleasure away.

She worked harder on the pea-sized organ until she climaxed. She sobbed and rolled from side to side on the bed, her hand working feverishly on her clit. Then, all too soon, the sensation died down in her body. But it had been enough to take her mind off the aches and pains inside. Her pussy had begun to drool and that actually felt good. It relieved some of the hollow feeling. For a while.

Carole cried herself to sleep again thinking about all that she had lost, the pain she had suffered, the imprisonment ahead of her. She didn't know how long she slept again but the slightest noise of the door opening awakened her.

"Mr. Strong," she said, surprised. She had been dreaming about more pleasant people than him.

"I see you have recovered from your little educational lesson." He landed the riding crop across his hand a few times with resounding whacks to let her know that he could control her movement whenever he wanted. The words came to her like a death sentence. Whatever he wanted from her, she wasn't sure she wanted to deliver.

But she knew she wouldn't have any choice in the matter.

"On your feet," he commanded. The look on his face made her spring to her feet so fast she almost choked. The chain fastened to the dog collar made her feel more like an animal than anything else.

"What are you going to do to me? I demand to know!" She tried to show a brave front but she knew that it was all bluster. This strong, dominant man held all the cards and could play them whenever he desired. It was obvious to her that he wanted to play a few right now.

"See the chains dangling from the ceiling?" She looked up for the first time and saw a series of rings hanging from above. From each was a short length of chain ending in a padded cuff. She didn't have to ask what went into those handcuffs. The use was obvious. Her eyes made a quick appraisal of the distance from cuff to floor and she figured she couldn't possibly be expected to survive anything like that. Her toes would hardly touch the floor.

That didn't stop him from suspending her from the chains, though. Carole fought but he was too strong for her. The girl managed to rake her fingernails along his arm but the bloody tracks she left seemed to spur him on rather than stop him. He fastened her left hand into one of the cuffs, then lifted her and inserted her tight wrist into another of the padded handcuffs. The leather was soft, almost sensual, against her wrists after the harsh binding she had suffered with the ropes.

But there was a catch. There always was when Mr. Strong had anything to do with it.

Her toes barely touched the floor.

She was, pulled out as straight as an arrow and stood precariously perched on tiptoe. Mr. Strong studied her for a moment and smiled his cruel smile. Carole knew that he saw and knew what running through her mind.

She was as helpless as any woman could be. And there was no doubt in the girl's mind that she presented an appealing picture to the man. The position he had her stretched into caused her tits to flare up and over the top of the black corset. Her nipples were a bright red and looked like fingers pointing at the man. Each time her heart beat she could feel it all the way through her jugs and the nipples might have been safety valves.

Her waist had never been slimmer and the strain on her legs and toes tightened the muscles attractively. Even her ass tensed up as she tried to stand on her toes. Without a doubt, her leg and ass muscles would begin to hurt like the devil in a few minutes. Mr. Strong forced her into a position where the strain would cause the maximum amount of pain and do the least amount of damage.

"Hang loose," he said as he left.

She couldn't believe the man was leaving her dangling from the chains like this. She turned in time to see him pass through the door. The motion carried her around just enough to see herself in the full length mirror. Her suspicions had been correct. Her tits were flattened a little more than she'd expected but the blood was pounding hard into them and made them all the more attractive. Her skin was flushed and her hips seemed firmer.

The weight of her body hung heavily on her shoulders and joints. She took scant pleasure in seeing her naked pussy flashing pinkly between the black silk stockings or the fact that her legs had never been more attractive. The muscles in her thighs and calves began to knot as she tried to stand on her toes. It would have been better if he'd simply hung her from the ceiling so that her toes didn't touch the floor at all. But that would have made it too easy on her.